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RPlog:Return of the Prodigal Son
Jessalyn arrives from the corridor. Jessalyn has arrived. Jessalyn enters the hospital room, the doors whooshing closed behind her, and her green eyes flicker over the room in search of the medical droid who had treated her previously. She takes a few steps in, spying the droid nearby, and walks toward him purposefully, her boot heels clicking on the hard floor. Paul is seated at one of the beds on the other side of the room, a droid tending to the injury on his neck. "You should have come in immediately," it notes to him in an almost annoyed tone. "Then this would not have been a problem." Paul nods fractionally and growls, "Yeah, well, I was busy," at the droid's reprimand. Jessalyn slows her steps as she recognizes the voice addressing the droid, her expression faltering. But as she struggles to regain her composure she quickens her steps and goes to stand next to the Corellian. "Paul?" she says breathlessly, tilting her head to look at his face. Paul starts to turn his head to look at Jessalyn, but winces at the movement and the droid chides him again. "Please remain still, I'm not finished yet." Paul growls at the droid and then casts a glance at Jessalyn. "Uh, hi Jessa," he replies, his voice a little nervous sounding. However, he takes in her features and improved condition like a man coming in from the desert would examine a glass of water. At seeing that she appears to be alright, his face relaxes into lines of relief. Jessalyn's expression, does not show any relief at all as she stares hard into Paul's face, her green eyes fierce. "Well, well," she says slowly, folding her arms over her chest. "Luke and I have been looking for you. How nice of you to show up and let us know how you are doing," she adds, her voice dripping with acid scorn. Paul's eyes narrow briefly with a flash of pain, which he then masks. "I'm afraid I wasn't ah, well," and he searches for a term before finally settling on "stable enough to come at first." He squirms uncomfortably. "You had my card, and Shenner knew where I was ..." his voice trails off there for a moment, the voicing of the kid's name bringing another troubled look to his face. "I came in today to pick up a few things, get this stupid thing attended to, and find Luke, actually," he adds softly. His gaze drops to the ground and he replies, "As for how I am, well I didn't think anyone would be concerned really." The lashes over Jessa's eyes lower fractionally, and she draws in a breath as if to steady herself before speaking again. Her voice is cool, but does not entirely mask the anger lurking beneath it. "Oh, yes. You wanted me to come find you, that was why you left me that letter?" On the last word, her voice rises, almost cracking, and she takes a step back from him. "You can go on thinking we're not concerned about you, but you'll be wrong, Paul. And you can go on hurting me with your fears about friendship, but --" She holds out her hand, pointing an angry finger at him. "But so help me, if you ever lead on poor Shenner like that again, I will steal Luke's lightsaber and cut you in half myself!" The droid peers at the large hole in Paul's neck and then nods approvingly. "The post trauma staff infection has been cleared out," it announces in almost a proud tone, "and your fever should be reducing soon." It then starts to bandage up the hole. Paul stares at Jessalyn for a long moment, his face blank, but his eyes betraying emotions of anger, anguish, remorse, and distress. Finally he drops his eyes to the floor again and murmurs brokenly, "I didn't write that letter so you would come and find me ... and I did everything that I possibly could -not- to hurt Shen, but as you are well aware, my best just isn't good enough." Unordinarily for her, Jessalyn does not respond to the broken tone of Paul's voice, or his assertions of good will toward Shenner. Instead her voice flares with anger again. "I was being sarcastic, Paul. I know you didn't want me to come and find you. You made it perfectly clear that as far as you're concerned, you never want to see me again." She inhales sharply, then bursts on as if she's afraid the words will never come if she doesn't say them now. "And I saw your attempt to 'not hurt Shenner' -- remember? Do you think trying to seduce a teenager out in the street after you've been drinking yourself senseless is a good attempt at trying not to hurt her?" She fumes at him, rage turning her knuckles white as she clenches her fists at her side. At Jessalyn's harsh words, Paul sits up straight sharply, the anger in his eyes taking precedence over the other emotions. "First off, you're wrong about you and me! Damnit all, she kissed me first!" he growls, "and as soon as I realized that she was getting seduced I stopped it right there! Damn but you are two faced now, telling me that night that it wasn't my fault and now condemning me! Why the hell do you think I left?! To give her space! Why do you think I left again? Because I am responsible for you getting hurt! What do you think I tried to do when she came to visit me?! Seduce her again? No! I told her that I cared about her too much to hurt her anymore by getting involved! I did what I could, and when she left me last, she seemed fine!" As the last words leave his lips, he gets an uneasy look in his eyes, as if realizing that perhaps your words meant that she wasn't alright. Jessalyn raises her brows delicately, folding her arms back over her chest. She listens to the tirade with a sudden cool detachment, her face setting into grim lines, and when the words fade, she remains silent, letting them echo hollowly in the room. Rather than countering his attack, she merely says smoothly, "You were her age once, Paul. Would -you- have been fine?" Paul's face frowns with distress. He doesn't answer your question directly but instead he finally replies, "When I was her age, I had a woman lead me on, someone who made me believe that she loved me. I thought I was going to marry her ... and in the end she never loved me at all ... ever." He raises his hot gaze to Jessalyn's cool one. "I couldn't lead Shen on like that, because I don't think it's in her best interests and I can't say that I am in love with her ... would you rather that I had lied, made her believe in a pretty picture, give her the time to -really- fall in love with me and then break her heart?" Jessalyn blows out a tired breath. "Did I say that? Why the hell do you think I would want that?" She puts her hands on her hips, smirking. "So we've all been hurt now. We can all empathize with each other. Paul, it's nothing new. It's the same for all of us. So why do you keep running away?" Her voice finally softens, genuinely sad. Paul's frame seems to deflate, as if all the angry air in him was keeping him upright. Leaning on the bunk with one arm he stares at the ground for a moment and then forces his gaze to meet Jessalyn's again. "I didn't know what else to do," he replies listlessly, and for a moment it is uncertain if that was response to Jessa's second question or her last one. "I left because I don't want to hurt any more ... or be hurt," he replies gruffly. "But of course," he adds wryly, "I've been made to understand that that is an illusion only." Jessalyn tilts her head as she looks back at him. "That's life, Paul. You can't run away from it. Friends... friends hurt each other sometimes, even if they don't mean to..." She frowns slightly, pondering this herself, then lifts her gaze back to yours. "Look, you I'm not going to try to talk you out of your decisions. You're a man. Just... " Her eyes close briefly. "Just be careful, okay?" With that, she turns on her heel to go. Paul watches her walk away and despite himself he croaks out, "Jessa? Don't go." Jessalyn stops at the door, her back turned, but she tilts her head slightly. "What?" Paul stares at the floor, unable to ask her again. Once was hard enough. Swallowing hard he waits as the droid finishes with the last touches and then leaves. He gets off the bed and picks up his guitar and a bag and asks a different question instead, "Hold on a sec?" Jessalyn glances back. "Why?" she whispers quietly, and in a non-demanding tone. Paul closes his eyes as he gather's himself together, both physically and mentally. Jessalyn's small questions demand huge personal sacrifices of everything he has ever held as being safe. He takes a breath to answer, "Because I want to go with you?" Although it is a statement, it comes out as a question, as if he were expecting her refusal. Jessalyn straightens, turning her head to look at you fully. "You do?" she asks in astonishment. Paul releases the breath. "Yes," he responds, his voice stronger, more sure. He walks toward Jessalyn, his face still shadowed with doubts and lingering fears, but his step determined. Jessalyn's smile creeps slowly over her face, but it reaches her eyes, brightening them. She holds out her hand as he walks toward her. "I'm glad," she says quietly, but sincerely. Paul approaches Jessalyn with his hand outstretched and takes her offered one. For a moment it looks like he is going to make a snide comment, his mouth opening to say, "Really?" But instead you can see a mental shift and he replies, "Me too," with a wan smile curling his lips. Jessalyn gives Paul's fingers a squeeze, gazing up at him, noting the shift in his demeanor. She regards him thusly for a moment, then reaches a hand to press the door pad, watches it slide open, and tugs him with her toward it. "Now don't you ever scare me like that again," she scolds lightly, and tosses him her most brilliant smile. Paul watches her smile with the same pleasure and delight that he took in fantastic sunset of the other night. "So long as you don't beat me up anymore," he teases her somberly and allows himself to be tugged along, surprised at just how much easier this is than resisting was. He makes a mental note to thank Molari. You head back into the corridor. Womprats Room A long but wide corridor, lined with windows that allow Calamari's bright sunlight to shaft through. The white, almost iridescent walls shimmer in the sun, casting tiny rainbows onto the floor. There are comfortable looking benches along both walls, and exits leading off to different rooms. Jessalyn heads into the Barracks. Jessalyn has left. You head into the Barracks. NR Spare Barracks -- Calamari() Row upon row of meticulously made cots line in military precision down the cold, off-white walls of this plain-looking room, each separated by a barracks locker and side-table. This room is normally silent, the shadows cast by the lights above harsh and stark against the bare floor. You can see doorways leading off into private rooms and bathing rooms at the far end of the hall. Jessalyn leads you into the barracks, making a straight line for the locker next to her bunk. There is a long box sitting on top of it, and she picks it up, tucking it under her arm as she turns to look at you. Shenner is on her bunk, her feet actually up on the pillow, her head at the other end; she is casually scanning the screen of her small datapad, and as the door whooshes open, she doesn't immediately move. Only when Jessalyn passes her field of vision does the kid say readily, "Yo, Jess" -- not seeing Paul, yet. Paul follows along with a happy smile on his face. "What's that?" he asks as he looks around the room for a free bunk. When he sees and hears Shen his smile slips slightly, his eyes growing a touch concerned, but he covers nicely and smiles at Shenner. "Hey Shen," he says a bit more softly, "lookie what I got," and he swings his guitar case. Jessalyn glances over at the sound of Shenner's voice, and she smiles warmly at her, alert, however, to Paul's reactions and eyeing him warily. "Shen, how are you?" she calls, and picks up another smaller box off the top of the locker. Shenner, for the briefest of instants, goes very still, and her eyes go wide. She looks up, then, and offers Paul a casual lopsided grin. "Guitar, huh? Good for you. You need one." A beat, then to Jess, she adds laconically, "Lost the hangover. Better now." She remains where she lies, her bandaged hands still holding the datapad, though she is now paying more attention to the adults in the room. Paul's curiosity over Jessalyn's box is lost to Shenner's mention of having a hangover. He smiles at Jessalyn, with a hint of reassurance, and then strides over to Shenner's bunk, smiling. "Hangover, huh? I didn't know you drank." He teases lightly. "Yeah, I figured you were getting sick of me borrowing yours and this way we can play together." As he draws nearer he sees the bandages and his face frowns with concern. "Shen! What happened to your hands?" The kid shakes her head, and says blandly, "I didn't see nobody when I came back last night. Y'all were still gone." She looks back at the datapad, skimming its display. Shenner, at least, tries to look back at the datapad, but Paul's approach clearly grabs more of her attention for all that her eyes are actually still pointed at the pad's screen. "I forgot to tell yah? I'm workin' on bein' able to drink Wookiees under tables." Another one-sided grin. Jessalyn eases away from the two chattering, boxes under her arm, and makes her way to the door. "Well, I'm going to see if I can find him," she says just loud enough for them to hear, and disappears out the door. Jessalyn heads back into the Womprats room. Jessalyn has left. Paul places his guitar case and a bag full of stuff down on the floor. He then sits himself down on the side of her cot and reaches for her hands. "Shen," he says in a softer tone, "what happened to your hands?" His face is concerned as well as his voice. Shenner doesn't quite meet Paul's eyes, and she doesn't let him get both hands, either, as she shifts the datapad into the left one. But he can get the right one. Then she cracks a third one-sided grin and says brightly, "Just tried out for the All-Day Guitar Marathon. Impulse thing, yah know?" Frowning, Paul takes Shen's right hand, which would be the most damaged of the two and begins to gently remove the bandages. "Well gee, I told you that practice was the key but I didn't think you would take me so literally," and then as he manages to get the bandage off he can't help but take in a sharp breath of shock. "Oh Shen," he murmurs softly as his eyes take in her mangled fingers. Shenner's casual expression falters, and she stares off at the wall, not looking pleased at Paul's discovery -- though she does not prevent him from removing the bandage. "Hey, they'll be okay in a day or two, no big deal." Paul stares at the damage and then looks into Shenner's eyes. "How did you do this?" he asks in confusion. "Your hands must have been killing you long before they got this bad." He reaches for her left hand, removing the datapad from her grip. "They need to be re-bandaged," he murmurs in explanation. Shenner refuses to meet your gaze; her own is evasive, hard, at odds with her attempt at a laid-back air. "Eh, well. You know us devoted musicians. Completely lose track of time, hunger, or bloody fingertips," she tells you, with a brittle kind of brightness. Removing the rest of the bandages from her left hand he sighs as the damage there is not as extreme. He gives Shenner a look that says that he doesn't buy that story, but he doesn't press her. "Stay right there," he admonishes lightly before getting the first aid kit off the wall. He rummages though some of the various salves available and finally chooses one and returns with fresh gauze. Sitting back down he eyes you worriedly. "Shen, really, you can't play for at least a week or you might permanently injure your hands," he cautions gently and he begins to gently massage the salve into her right hand first, applying it thickly and rubbing it into her fingertips with careful strokes. "That long, huh? Tand said a day or two. Ah well." Shenner shrugs a little, and still refuses to look at you as you begin to tend her hands, though again, she doesn't stop you. "Two days for regular use, but I wouldn't try playing the guitar for at least a week. You'll need to let the muscles relax and heal as well as your fingers," and as if trying to prove a point, his hands move to massage your palms and the muscles in your hand. As the salve begins to take effect Shen's fingertips begin to feel cooler and the pain dramatically lessens. Shenner might be seen to swallow, once, as the salve's components begin to seep into her injured flesh -- the only sign she gives you that her hands are indeed paining her. Paul's eyes are intent on Shenner's hands and he doesn't notice her painful swallow, but his hands remain tender and gentle on hers. Shenner tries again for that light tone. "Ah well. Gives me time to finish checking out the base, I guess. And I wasn't gettin' that song right anyway, no big loss...." Her fingers twitch once at the massaging; you've clearly found stiff muscles there. Paul notes the reaction and continues to massage gently, using the numbing power of the salve as a means to relaxing the muscles to the point where he can work the knots out of them painlessly. He frowns in concentration but a small smile graces his lips. "You can go catch some rays or something," he teases lightly. "Go for a swim in the ocean ... the salt water will be good for your hands too," he mentions idly. "You've got plenty of time for music," he notes. "We'll just work on those voice lessons I was telling you about ... not like you need my help with the guitar anymore," he teases her. "Nah, I'll pass," Shenner says airily. "Ocean, that is. Probably ain't got time to learn how to swim anyhow." She casts a glance at the datapad. "Unless they have swimmin' lessons in basic training around here. Hafta ask, I guess...." "Basic training?" Paul asks idly, finishing up with the right hand and wrapping it carefully in gauze. He reaches for the left hand and begins to repeat the process. "Yeah. Thought I'd start workin' for my food and water around here." Shenner grins crookedly, but doesn't look at you. Shenner shrugs, and finishes, "General Calhoun suggested I enlist. I figure, what the hell, soldier probably beats the hell outta street rat." At first Paul doesn't get the reference to working, but when Shen mentions the word "soldier", Paul goes stiff and stops in the middle of his ministrations, his eyes rising to catch Shenner's. "You're joining the army?" he asks in astonishment, his voice a little gruff. The girl has yet to look at you as she tells you, half-smiling, "Guess I always dreamt about runnin' off and joinin' the Rebellion when I was a kid. Bit late now, but if they wanna let me in, what the hell." Paul begins to protest her decision, feeling an unexpected panic rising within him. He manages to choke it back, realizing that by releasing her, he has no say over anything she might choose to do with her life. The surprise is how much he resents that now. Clenching his teeth his looks back down at her left hand and continues to stroke it tenderly, the massage becoming more personal and intimate as he unconsciously begins to fret. "Ah, you'll be careful right? I mean, there isn't much fighting going on any more, is there?" He can't help but let a little worry escape into his question. "Dunno. Guess it depends on whether the fleet left Etti IV... they were gonna shoot it out with the Imperials, when I was there..." Shenner trails off a bit, and swallows again, at the renewed message to her hands. But she still doesn't look at you. Paul continues his massage, swallowing a little at the mention of a shoot out. "What about Jessalyn? I thought you were going to Yavin with her?" he asks a trifle desperately, fishing around for a better option than what the girl seems to be suggesting. Shenner shifts slightly where she lies, allowing her head to turn in your direction although she doesn't meet your eyes. "Well, it's like this, see... General Calhoun said I oughtta play music for the NR or somethin', but I figure, can't know if they want me to sing till they get to hear me, so in the meantime, might as well do somethin' to pay my room and board, and I can shoot. I can run. Get in and outta places fast. Must count for somethin' for a soldier." Shenner glances down at the datapad. "Anyhow, been readin' up on their enlistment material." Paul bites his lip, unable to look Shenner in the eyes. He abruptly stops his massage and begins to wrap the gauze around her injured hand, feeling the urge to flee growing stronger by the second. "But what about Yavin?" he repeats again, sounding like a broken holodisc recording. Shenner releases a slow sigh, and then tells you, looking away, "I gotta have somethin' to do, Paul, and heck, the General says if I played music for 'em Jess'd wind up my superior officer anyhow... but like I said, I figure I better not count on that till I know the NR actually likes my music." With both of Shen's hands now rebandaged up, Paul doesn't have anything to concentrate on any longer. He nods somewhat brusquely in response, but doesn't have anything to say in response. He stands up and begins to rummage through his bag. "Well, I better pick myself a bunk," he mutters softly and then pulling out a box he thrusts it out ungraciously to Shenner. "Ah, I saw this and it made me think of you," he mutters uncomfortably. He was actually quite delighted with it when he first found the object, but now, in the face of what he has just been told, he finds it hard to drum up much enthusiasm. As a last minute thought he replies, "Well, I guess I better give you a voice lesson, just in case, huh?" Shenner blinks at you, as you jab the box in her direction. Actually blinks in the direction of your face, at least for a moment. Taking the box awkwardly in her newly bandaged hands, she sits up, and asks, "What is this?" Paul doesn't seem to be able to look at you, and as you take the box he mumbles, "Open it." and then begins to pick up his purchases and look about for a bunk. Shenner's casual mask slips a little further. The kid flicks you a brief uneasy glance, then, as best she can, opens up the container. As she does -- it takes her a few moments to wrestle with it -- she says gruffly, "I, uh... if you wanna gimme a lesson, sure. Could probably use the help." As you open the box, and rummage inside your fingers awkwardly find a roundish object on a silk cord. When you draw it out of the box, it looks like a rather large necklace of a shell - only upon closer examination there are several holes carved into in a sort of circle like pattern on one side of it and a hole at the top. "No expert myself, but I can give you some pointers," he grunts. "Be right back," Paul manages to sort of strangle out and then with a cough, he is off at a fair clip for a bunk that he espies across the room a ways. In fact, it is quite aways away. "What.... what is this?" Shenner murmurs out, something of that brittle cheerfulness having left her voice. "It's pretty...." She holds the shell in her bandaged hands, peering at it, and at the holes. Paul tosses down his stuff and then whirls back, using the bit of exercise to clear his mind ... or at least he tries to. As he draws near to Shen again and sees her looking at the necklace with her bandaged hands he has to surpress the strong urge to protect her and keep her from joining the army, no matter in what capacity she chooses to serve. He stands next to her bunk, twitching slightly from side to side. "It's an ocarina," he rasps at her. Clearing his throat he continues. "See, you can wear it around your neck and then you blow through the hole on the end and play it with your fingers over the holes." He frowns as he realizes that she won't be able to play it with her bandaged hands and he reaches out with one palm. "Here, I'll show you." Shenner looks at your hand as you lift it to her, then lifts her gaze up to you, tentatively. Only now, with her veneer of amiability starting to crack, might it be seen that there's a slight bruised and hollow look about her eyes, as though she's gone without rest the last day or two. Still, perhaps stubbornly, a grin tries to curl one end of her mouth. "Okay... lemme see..." Paul takes the tiny instrument from her hand, brushing against her thick bandages. He drops his gaze to hers, but her shadowed face and the dark circles beneath her eyes only further illustrate her fragility to Paul. He does his best to give her a warm smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Now, I'm no expert you understand," he murmurs, and lifts the little shell to his lips and blows through the opening, his fingers covering and opening holes in a pattern so that he plays an octave scale, and then he just plays a series of notes, not exactly a song, but musical sounding. Skeezix arrives from the corridor. Skeezix has arrived. Gabrielle arrives from the corridor. Gabrielle has arrived. Skeezix walks into the barracks, his left hand wrapped around Gabrielle's. Shenner murmurs awkwardly, "That's... pretty--" She cuts off, though, as the doors whoosh open to herald the arrival of the two officers. Gabrielle looks around the barracks, eyes falling on the pair as she catches the sound from the instrument. Paul stops playing and hands the ocarina back to Shen, turning to observe the two officers entering. "Well, yeah, like I said, it made me think of you," he replies distractedly. Gabrielle: You see before you a young human female, standing easily at 5'9". Alluring emerald eyes sparkle from behind a fan of bronze lashes, twin jewels set in a softly aristocratic face. Her slender well developed form is sheathed in a simmering gown of metallic black, almost hematite in appearance. It's liquid texture flows over her curves and cascades to the floor just above her heeled feet. A slit runs the entire length of the skirt, starting just below her right hip, revealing slender legs. The dress is sleeveless, thin straps coming over her shoulder and around scooping down in a curved neckline that tantalizingly drops to mid sternum revealing smooth alabaster skin and curves. Fiery copper hair adorned with dozens of tiny Corellian starfires (almost like diamonds but far more resilient), curled ever so softly, brushes and spills across her bare back. The gold flecks near the center of the iris intensify the sparkle in her eyes. A smile plays on her lush red lips, complimented by the soft rose on her cheeks. Her movements are calm and lithe like a jungle cat's and she carries herself with demure confidence that is belied by the constant mischievous sparkle in her eyes. A hooded cloak of deep black velvet rests on her shoulders falling softly down to her feet. Skeezix smiles slightly as the music plays, then averts his gaze as he looks over towards Gabrielle. He squeezes her hand once and says quietly, "I enjoyed the evening, Gabby." Shenner blinks once at the sight of the General making such overtures at a woman, then her gaze quickly drops to the ocarina pendant. Her hands awkward, she lifts the silk cord to loop around her neck, and whispers, "Thanks, Paul..." Gabrielle nods, turning emerald eyes back to Skeezix "As did I...." she smiles "I wouldn't mind repeating it." A smile creeps it's way upon the Generals face, forcing him to delay his reply until it's made it's way from end to end. "Well, I don't see why we can't," he comments, taking her other hand in his as well. Paul shrugs awkwardly. "You're welcome," he murmurs back softly. Then he looks at her face again and reaches out with one hand to brush at a loose sprig of her hair. "Well, it looks like you could use a little sleep now, huh?" "Ain't been sleepin' too good last coupla days," the kid mutters, still looking down at the ocarina. Paul nods in understanding. "Yeah, me neither," he hints softly. He takes a few steps away from her side, not wanting to abandon her, but at the same time thinking that he should. Gabrielle smiles looking down at her hands, both resting in Skeezix's. She remains quiet a few moments the looks back up at him "Get some sleep General" Skeezix chuckles lightly, "Don't worry, I'll be out in ten seconds." He releases both hands, yet brushes one across her back and whispering something with a smirk before turning and walking over towards his cot. Shenner, hearing what can be heard of the soft exchange between the two officers, doesn't say anything, but she does flick Paul a brief wary.... shy glance. A light rush of color rises to her cheeks as Gabrielle watches Skeezix walk across to his bunk. After a moment she looks down, reaching up to her neck and unfastening the cloak, pulling it from her shoulders. Skeezix sits down on his cot and begins to change into his evening sweats and t-shirt, looking back up towards Gabrielle only when he's dressed. "Night, Gabby," he calls out quietly before lying back on his cot. Paul stands there for a moment, uncertainly. "Well, uh, g'night Shenner?" he finally mumbles softly, his tone just ever so slightly questioning, as if inviting her to stop him if she wanted to. With the ocarina's cord about her neck and the shell itself still resting in her bandaged fingers, Shenner looks up at Paul, the most direct look she's given him since he arrived. Her eyes still look strained and hollowed, and the attempt at a grin only flickers momentarily at the corner of her mouth; she swallows, and says shyly, "'Night Paul.... glad you're back... Jessalyn missed yah." Gabrielle lays the cloak over her bunk, looking over at Skeezix "Good night..." Skeezix gives Gabrielle one last smile before his eyelids slam shut. Within moments he has drug his blanket up to cover him and turned to one side, fast asleep. Paul takes in Shen's gaze somberly, with no idea what to do now. He manages to nod and a small smile cracks his lips at her last comment. "Well, it was hard to tell with all the grief she was giving me," he teases lightly. "Sleep well Shen, I'll see you tomorrow," he adds reassuringly. And with that he turns and heads for his bunk. Gabrielle smiles faintly as she watches him for a few moments then turns, opening the small chest at the foot of her bunk. Shenner looks down again as Paul moves off to the other end of the room. Without a word, the girl sinks down to lay with her face to the wall on her bunk; whether she drops asleep immediately is impossible to tell, with her face thusly obscured. But she does not say another word, so perhaps she drops asleep immediately after all. Paul finds his bunk and stuffs his purchases underneath it along with his new guitar. He sighs as he makes do with sleeping in his clothes, his luggage still at Molari's house. Idly he realizes that he should check in with the professor and he finds a holocom and rings the house. Softly he says into it, "Hey there ... I'm here and it looks like I'm here to stay this time." The response is too soft to hear, but Paul chuckles in response and replies, "Yeah, I just bet you are. I'll be by tomorrow to pick up the rest of my stuff, and Molari? Thanks again, you were right I think." There is another brief static of sound and Paul smiles again and nods. "Sleep well," he closes, and then shuts the connection off. Turning back to his bunk he strips off his shirt and boots, but leaves on the pants before climbing in and settling down. He doesn't stir again. Return of the Prodigal Son